Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O grave! where is thy victory? O death! where is thy sting?

Tell me, my soul, can this be death?

Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain, Here earth and water seem to strive again, Not chaos-like together crushed and bruised, But, as the world, ha…

Hark! they whisper; angels say, Sister spirit, come away!